


Diamonds in the Glass

by noveltea_lolita



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Angst with a Happy Ending, Domestic Fluff, Eventual Romance, Inappropriate Humor, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, POV Multiple, Past Abuse, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:54:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25683118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noveltea_lolita/pseuds/noveltea_lolita
Summary: Sugawara once dreamed of becoming a teacher and settling down with a handsome alpha, but after getting knocked up at the age of eighteen and losing every single support system he's ever had, he's constantly on the hunt for better jobs in order to keep himself and his seven year-old son afloat. Then his best friend introduces him to a place where omegas like himself can get good money fast, and suddenly Suga is thrust into The Nest, a strip club for male omega dancers, and he is enjoying it a lot more than he initially thought he would.In the midst of this new job, he meets a kind hearted alpha by the name of Daichi, and although he finds himself falling fast, Suga isn't entirely sure if his heart is ready to love again.{10/27/20: Temporary hiatus, but not abandonment!}
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Azumane Asahi/Nishinoya Yuu, Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou, Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi, Takeda Ittetsu/Ukai Keishin, Tendou Satori/Ushijima Wakatoshi
Comments: 22
Kudos: 136





	1. Zero

**Author's Note:**

> My first Haikyuu fanfiction and it's a stripper au. I wouldn't have it any other way. I'm super excited to start this!! There will be inaccurate descriptions of strip clubs because, let's face it, I'm a lesbian ace who has no business being in a strip club. I hope everyone enjoys this, and please leave kudos and/or feedback :) I would greatly appreciate it! Oh, and it's okay to laugh at everyone's stripper names, I most certainly did.
> 
> This story wouldn't be here without my ~~disgusting~~ lovely best friend [fluffybunnyblue](https://fluffybunnyblue.tumblr.com/=%22). Thanks for listening to my maddening rants and coming up with great ideas with me! :D
> 
> "Diamonds of the Glass" taken from the song Lady Marmalade from the "Moulin Rouge" soundtrack.

Along the busy lit street of Tokyo’s infamous Kabuikcho, there was a strip club dedicated to alphas looking for male omegas only instead of their female counterparts. Sitting at the corner of a street with a karaoke bar as its only neighbor, the young club waits for tourists and Japanese citizens alike to wander inside and charm them with its beauty. A neon red sign hung from the side of the two-story building, flashing its English name for everyone to see: The Nest.

This particular strip club was different for two reasons: the first is that it offered male omegas exclusively. Though sex and promiscuous activities were not new professions, it was usually dominated by female omegas. Of course men had always been a part of it, but society was only just coming around and treating male and female omegas equally, and per usual, Japan was one of the last developed countries to get with the program.

The second difference is that this particular club was inspired by American strip clubs. The owner of The Nest, a thirty-five year-old sweet hearted omega by the name of Ukai Ittetsu- another minor difference since most strip clubs were owned by alphas and betas- who taught Japanese in the United States for five year wanted to start his own male omega strip club when he came back home after being inspired by the places he had seen in the west. He wanted to show Japan that male omegas were just as equal and beautiful as female omegas. The American influence could be seen in the English name of the establishment and the stripper names themselves.

However, just because the strip club was a little abnormal didn’t mean it wasn’t successful. Despite it being only five months old, it was a very popular destination for alphas who preferred male omegas. The doors opened at eight in the evening Wednesdays through Saturdays and closed at four in the morning, leaving intervals for stage performances every two hours while majority of the time was for the omegas to wait the tables and provide private shows for high paying customers.

The Nest was quietly making a name for itself in Kabukicho. It was the perfect place for pretty male omegas to dance on a big stage and for hungry alphas to empty their pockets. It was new and shiny, but far from innocent and naïve.

The Nest is the exact place Kozume Kenma found himself in one Friday night, huddled at one of the back tables and clinging to his black backpack for dear life as he contemplated why the hell he was there. Everything about the place put him on edge: the low lighting, the circular tables with poles in the center of them, the empty stage at the front opposite the long bar at the very back, and the atrocious smell circulating through the room. His omegan nose could detect every single secretion coming from the mingling alphas’ scent glands and it was making his stomach churn. There were so many alphas crammed into the building, many of the tables were filled with them. At least the music wasn’t too loud.

He pulled his gaze from the empty stage in order to glare at the alpha lounging at his side, stretched out in his own chair with his feet sprawled atop the table looking like he owned the damn place. “Why,” Kenma hissed through clenched teeth. “have you brought me to a _fucking strip club_ , Kuro?”

Kuroo flashed him a lazy grin, and if he weren’t so out of it, Kenma would have punched that look right off of his face. “Because you told me you were in desperate need of some good ole inspiration?”

“And you thought I would find inspiration in a-” He had to break off because the table next to there’s began hollering for the dancers to ‘come out all ready’, “-strip club? Did you hit your head recently because this is insane, even for you.”

Kuroo laughed as if Kenma wasn’t one second away from strangling him. “You’re the one who finds inspiration in weird places, kitten! I was trying to be considerate, honest. And you have no reason to be uncomfortable here, you’re safe with me.”

As much as Kenma didn’t want to admit it to himself, he knew he was safe with Kuroo at his side, even in a place as intense and different as this, but that wasn’t the point. “I’m not uncomfortable,” he muttered as he looked away from his obnoxious best friend. “I just don’t understand why you think I would find inspiration for my omegan studies class in a strip club. And I told you to stop calling me that.”

Kenma was an art major at one of the universities in Shinjuku and was currently enrolled in an omegan studies class that basically gave the history of omegan equality throughout the world, and with the semester drawing to a close, finals were quickly approaching and, in typical Kozume Kenma fashion, he waited until the last minute to start it (he still had three weeks to do it, but as an art student that was pushing it really close). The assignment should be easy- create something that represented The Omega. It was something that would push his creativity to its limits, and if he wanted to get an A on it, Kenma needed it to be better than good.

“I can tell you my professor is not going to like the idea of me figuring out what the ideal omega is in a strip club.” Kenma tightened the hold on his bag that was filled with sketchbooks and pencils. Hours earlier, Kuroo had told him to pack his art supply and put on a clean shirt. Kenma should have been suspicious, but he was getting desperate so he had decided to trust Kuroo in wherever it was he thought Kenma’s inspiration lay, but this was the last time Kenma was putting his trust in the stupid bastard alpha. “And when we get back home, I’m throwing away those beaker shot glasses you love so much.”

The threat was powerful enough for the grin to fall from Kuroo’s face, but he still planted his feet to the floor and swung an arm around Kenma, who hissed like a cat in response. “It won’t be the strip club itself that gets you an A, it’s going to be the inspiration it gives you!”

“Say inspiration one more time,” Kenma growled. “See what happens.”

Kuroo chuckled, but he had the decency to say, “Okay, okay.” He dropped his arm, tilted his chair back, and rested his arms behind his head. Kenma wished he would keep going back until he was sprawled on the floor with a welt on his head. “How about this? If you don’t find any kind _innovation_ from watching the show, I give you permission to toss out the beakers.”

From the look Kuroo was giving him, the easy smile and half-lidded eyes, Kenma figured the alpha truly believed he would find some kind revelation by watching scantily dressed omegas shake their hips, and prove his point. And right now Kenma wanted nothing more than to prove him wrong, because he was going to be wrong. There was no way in _hell_ Kenma was going to find any sort of inspiration by watching that!

“Whatever,” he grumbled, ignoring the smirk spreading across Kuroo’s face. “But no matter what happens, I’m still going to find you repulsing.”

“What?! I’m a gentleman!”

“Gentlemen don’t drag omegas to strip clubs.” Kenma finally placed his bag on the table and ran his fingers across the top of it before hiding his hands in the large cuffs of his dark red hoodie. “And it’s good to know you’ve been coming here often enough to look as relaxed as you do now.” He dug his teeth into his bottom lip to smother his grin while Kuroo squawked in the background. “You single alphas need something to entertain your libidos, I guess.”

The chair slammed back against the floor and a moment later Kuroo’s long arms were draped across the table beside the bag. “What?” His bronze eyes twinkled in the low lighting, and Kenma’s heart twitched in that infuriating way he has yet to grow accustomed to. Naturally, it was Kuroo’s fault. “Is the little kitten jealous?”

His only response was an eye roll, but it was enough to make Kuroo laugh. Kenma took a deep breath and closed his eyes, literally feeling his nerves calm down. His was still flushed and his hands were still sweaty, but he no longer felt like he was on some sort of edge. This was out of his comfort zone, but Kuroo was here with him to make sure everything went smoothly, and he knew if he said he wanted to leave Kuroo would lead the way and not ask any questions until they were gone. Besides, maybe this place wasn’t that bad. It could probably be worse.

Kenma opened his eyes and started looking around again. Without the panicked haze clouding his mind, he was able to truly take in everything The Nest had to offer. The first thing he noticed was the lack of waiters. Not a single one was jumping from table to table; in fact, the only people who seemed to have any kind of drink were the ones lined along the bar. Everyone else was empty handed. Strange.

Suddenly, a voice called from the entrance, “Doors are closing!” followed by a loud bang signifying the door was, in fact, closing. Kenma straightened, slightly alarmed, but Kuroo barely flinched.

“They close the doors during the shows so they don’t have people running in and out. It causes a distraction,” he explained as Kenma watched the last patron walk to one of the tables toward the back near their own. “Doors open back up after every show.”

“Oh.” Kenma still didn’t look away from the guy. He seemed like the perfect businessman, dressed in a black pinstripe suit with a Bluetooth earpiece shining inside his ear, but the spikey salt-and-pepper hair didn’t go with the rest of his look. He walked with ease and purpose, thumbs tucked into the pockets of his pants and an easy smile on his face. As he took a seat at one of the only empty tables to Kenma’s left, he tilted his head back and rested big yellow eyes on Kenma and Kuroo. Surprisingly, he waved as if they were old friends.

Kuroo waved back. “That guy’s been here every time I’ve come,” Kuroo said as the businessman pulled out his phone and started tapping away at the screen. “Guess he’s a regular.”

“Mm.” Kenma wasn’t sure how to respond to that. “Are there many regulars?”

“I’m not sure since I’ve only been here three times- yeah, you think you’re smooth don’t ya?” They shared a wry grin. It ended when Kuroo pointed to their right at two tables in the corner. “They’ve been here each time too.”

Kenma had to peer around Kuroo’s shoulder to get a better look at the two tables. He counted eight patrons together with three sitting at one and five at another. They were murmuring among themselves all except for the one who sat facing the stage. He wore a dark button down shirt with the sleeves folded to the elbows, exposing very large arms that were inked. A cigarette hung from his lips, an orange glow flickering from the tip. His slanted eyes were trained on the stage, the color of his iris hidden by the faint lighting in the room. Suddenly, those reptilian eyes were sliding to the side until they were boring directly into Kenma’s. Kenma froze, struck by the primitive nature of his second gender to _submit_ to the alpha staring at him.

Kuroo grabbed his arm and pulled him back into the chair, and he was frozen no more. “Jesus, be careful! If that guy comes over here, we’re toast.”

So much for safety. He should’ve known Kuroo would be unreliable. He glared at Kuroo. “I was just looking at him, nothing bad was going to happen.” Debatable. He tried peering around Kuroo again because now his interest was piqued, but Kuroo moved to the side, blocking his view. “What the hell?”

“I’m no expert, but see how every single one of those guys have their sleeves rolled up?” Kenma raised an eyebrow as if to say, ‘yeah, so?’. Kuroo rolled his eyes. “See how they’re showing off their tattoos?” Oh. _Oh_ \- “Yeah. I’m ninety percent sure they’re yakuza, and I really don’t want to get their attention, especially that one hunk you were ogling. He knocked some guy out last time I was here with one punch.”

Kenma blinked once. Then he grabbed his bag and started tugging it over his shoulder while shaking his head. “We’re leaving.”

“What? Kenma-”

“You brought me to a place where shady businessmen and yakuza gather on the off chance I might find some sort of inspiration for my final.” He hoped Kuroo could smell the anger rolling off of him so he could understand just how pissed he was. “You’ve done a lot of stupid shit, Tetsurou but this one takes the cake. Now come on. We’re leaving.”

“But we can’t,” Kuroo tried weakly right as the music suddenly cut off, but the crowd made up for the sudden silence by their loud wolf whistles and cheers. Kenma turned his widened eyes to Kuroo. He didn’t need to hear the confirmation but Kuroo said it anyway. “It’s starting.”

The stage was still dark, but Kenma thought he could see some shapes moving around on top of it. Others probably could too since the crowd was steadily getting louder. Kenma was so caught up in watching the stage that he nearly leapt from his chair when he heard a disembodied male voice crackle through the speakers.

“Goooood evening everyone!”

It took Kenma a moment to pinpoint the person who was speaking, but he eventually found him when he turned around and faced the bar. The speaker held a microphone, and sat on top of the bar counter in a pair of black slacks and a long sleeved pale red button down shirt. Red hair stuck up in all directions, and sleepy eyes took in the crowd in front of him. Half of his upper body was slouched to the side of the bar, making him look like he was just about to give up and lay on top of the bar. Behind him stood a huge man- Kenma assumed it was the bartender- with a daunting expression and dark eyes that didn’t waver from the speaker’s back. His crossed arms (which were quite honestly the biggest arms Kenma had ever seen) twitched when the red head tilted his head to the side and exposed the side of his neck. Did the red head know it looked like he was seconds away from being devoured?

“The show is just about to begin, but before it does, some introductions are needed so you can put a pretty name to these four pretty faces!”

Once again, the crowd cheered. Kuroo offered his own whistle, and he only grinned like a cat when Kenma finally turned away from the two behind them to glare at him. However, Kenma’s heart was beating faster than it should. It pounded in his ears, but not in a way that was sickening. His feet were tapping against the floor, and his palms were beginning to itch, but the waves of nausea that usually came with his social anxiety weren’t there. Maybe there was something in the air because Kenma found himself leaning forward in anticipation as his body began thrumming with what could only be described as excitement. Why was he so excited?

Suddenly a spotlight fell onto the stage, illuminating one of the dancers. Kenma’s eyes widened from the sight. He wasn’t entirely sure what he had been expecting, but a drop-dead gorgeous man was not one of them. A head of wispy black hair and alabaster skin, sharply cut eyes and an angular body. Kenma thought the point of a strip club was for the dancers to take their clothes off on stage to reveal something sexier underneath, but this man was already dressed in lingerie. If he took anything else off, he would end up naked. His upper body was covered by a lacy, long sleeved blouse that seemed to be painted on his arms while the part that covered his chest was loose and billowed with his movements. It was much more modest than his lower half that only consisted of white panties. The outfit was completed by a pair of white heels that would most definitely kill Kenma if he tried to wear them.

From the corner of his eye, Kenma noticed Shady Businessman lean forward and rest his arms on the table as his lips curled into a smile. The low lighting made his yellow eyes glow, reminding Kenma of an owl. He turned his attention back to the stage when the speakers crackled again.

“First in line is our beautiful Angel, but don’t be deceived by the name.” Angel raised his arms above his head and wrapped his hands around the pole at his back whilst slowly swaying his hips from side to side. He dropped one arm and wrapped one very long leg around the pole, and twirled around it, showing off the muscles rippling through his thighs as he moved. Angel arched his back as he gave a few more spins around the pole, his face impassive. There were no winks or smiles thrown into the crowd, but the cool demeanor was really, _really_ sexy. His expression and his outfit made him seem mature. Kenma’s mouth dried.

Without any warning, Angel wrapped his other leg around the pole and arched his back further as he tossed his head back. The crowd grew deafening as Angel dropped back to his feet with his back to the them. Kenma blushed when he realized the white panties was actually a white thong. The lack of fabric allowed everyone to see the expanse of flawless skin and the flexing muscles that twitched with every little movement Angel made. The voice rang through the club again, and practically purred, “He’s really a devil in disguise.”

Kenma was inclined to agree.

Angel’s back was still to the crowd as another spotlight turned on to his right, exposing a man who was significantly smaller than him. His dark hair fell flat against his head with a tuft of it dyed blond, and his cheeks were dyed scarlet from either heat or adrenaline. He wore a tiny pair of black shorts that shone in the bright light like they were made of leather. The crop top- tank top he was wearing must have been leather too; it wrapped around his chest and left his stomach exposed. There was even a leather choker wrapped around his neck to complete the look along with shiny black boots. A completely different look than Angel’s.

“Next up is our wild Cinnamon!” the speaker exclaimed, and the crowd cheered again, though Kenma noticed they were much more enthusiastic about Angel. Clearly he was a favorite. “Remember folks, cinnamon is a delicious spice but consume too much of it and it can become deadly!”

Cinnamon was smiling as he wrapped his hands and ankles around the pole, and spun around and around, but instead of staying in the same spot, he moved down until the little heels of his boots were mere centimeters from the floor but they never touched it. Instead, Cinnamon continued to spin around and around, grinning as the crowd hollered for him. His lithe body wasn’t even quivering in effort! The spinning ceased as Cinnamon climbed further up the pole until he was about half-way up. With his back to the crowd, he unhooked his ankles and, effortlessly, spread his legs out on either side of him in a spread-eagle position. Cinnamon turned his head to the side and tossed a cheeky grin over his shoulder before he hooked one leg back around the pole and spun back down.

Kenma stared at Angel and Cinnamon, standing side by side in front of their respective poles, and felt the cogs in his head begin to move. Without looking away from the stage, he pulled his bag off of his shoulder and dug around for a sketchbook and pencil. This was weird and he was still pissed off at Kuroo, but… god damn.

“Third comes to us from a far-off galaxy,” the announcer exclaimed, “where the omegas are treated like royalty! Here is our elegant Gamora!”

Kenma would have snorted at the name if it weren’t for the absolute frenzy the crowd went into as the third spotlight appeared and showed everyone one of the most startlingly gorgeous men Kenma had ever seen before. Gamora was all long legs and arms, easily making him the tallest one on the stage. Windswept brown hair curled above his ears, and a brilliant smile was etched into his flawless face, but the smile wasn’t sweet. It dripped with sin and arrogance. He was even _waving_.

A pair of white panties hung from Gamora’s waist, held together by twin pieces of lacy string at the hips. Like Cinnamon, his, rather impressive, stomach was showing while his chest was covered. The strapless top matched the bottoms in color, and included ruffles across the hem. In the center of the top was the cut out of a heart, allowing a bit cleavage to be shown. His outfit was completed by a pair of white heels that crisscrossed their way over his shins until they made it to his knees. Well, royalty was one way to describe him.

Gamora walked around his pole allowing the crowd to see every single inch of him including his inked lower back. Then he was gripping the pole with both hands and spinning around and around. It was a similar performance to the other two, but it was also drastically different. Angel’s expression had been subdued and cold while Cinnamon’s had been alight with an intense fire. Gamora continued to smile in that way that told everyone he knew exactly what he looked like and _that_ was good, gorgeous. He knew the alphas in the crowd were frothing at the mouth, he knew he was going to get paid by dancing promiscuously, and he wasn’t afraid to own it. Kenma was captivated.

Gamora landed on his left foot while keeping his right leg around the pole. He sent the crowd one more smug smile before uncurling his right leg and lifting it into the air until it was as straight as an arrow. With his hands still gripping the pole, he twirled around it whilst his leg stayed in the air. Kuroo whistled, and Kenma didn’t blame him. His legs were aching just from looking at the position. From the sound of fists hitting tables and hollers echoing through the sea of patrons, they weren’t the only two impressed by Gamora.

Finally, the long leg fell back to the ground and Gamora let go of the pole. He lifted a hand and pressed it to his lips, blowing a kiss to the crowd and they happily ate it up. Kenma assumed the kiss was for the entire crowd until he heard laughter from his right. Ignoring Kuroo’s earlier warning, he looked at the corner where the two tables were pressed together and stared at the trio of men lounging in the one furthest away. The two men sitting side by side were grinning at the intense man in front of them, the one who had caught Kenma staring.

“I think that little kiss was for you, boss,” the one with curly black hair exclaimed.

The one with short hair barked out a laugh. “He does it during every single opening show; of course he’s doing it for the boss!”

Before Kenma could really process what had just been said- _Boss? As in, yakuza boss?!_ \- another spotlight fell onto the stage and showed off another lithe man with a head of curly orange hair and a demure smile on his face. He wore a black one-piece with slits in the sides and a hole in the center that showed off his belly button. A pair of shiny black heels completed the outfit.

“And our fourth and final dancer, here were have our innocent Bunny!” the speaker shouted. “Who is going to teach our fresh, sweet little rabbit a thing or two about the real world?”

Several patrons happily exclaimed they would do it, but their words were left unheard as Bunny _jumped_ in the air and wrapped his arms and legs around the pole without any sort of leverage. Kenma was stunned. Despite his small size, Bunny was able to lift himself up and down on the pole instead of spinning himself around like the others. The smile never fell from his face, but it wasn’t a cocky smile like Gamora’s. It was soft and sweet, innocent like he was supposed to be even though there was nothing innocent about his next move. He slid down the pole until he made it to the ground where he completed the most provocative split Kenma had ever seen. As Bunny lifted his head and blinked at the crowd, alphas stood up and cheered.

Bunny picked himself back up and stood beside the other three where they all bowed at the same time, allowing their patrons to cheer their names. “And that concludes the introductions!” the announcer exclaimed over the noise. “Now, who’s ready for the real show to begin?”

The walls were probably vibrating from the volume of the cheers. A sultry voice replaced the man’s on the speakers as a song began right, and the four dancers started swaying their hips together.

Kenma couldn’t look away as the dancers started spinning around their poles in sync with one another, unbothered by the deadly heels on their feet. Even though they were dancing together, there was something so very different about their moves. Kenma had never been inside of a strip club before but that didn’t mean he didn’t have any sort of expectations. He expected the dancers to be physically similar in height, weight, and build, but the four shaking their hips on stage were completely different from each other. Even their outfits were different! From an aesthetic approach, it shouldn’t work. But it did.

He watched them now with a pencil gripped in his hand and a notebook spread open on the table. As they moved, Kenma was able to see who these omegas were. There was Angel, the indifferent, quiet, and mature omega; there was Cinnamon, the wild, atypical, and spunky omega; there was Gamora, the cocky, sexy, and feisty omega; and there was Bunny, the innocent, sweet, and naïve omega. Their personalities, whether they were real or a complete façade, were written on their faces, leaving them open and human. It was better than the painted, fake strippers in movies and video games. These were real people who weren’t like one another in looks and personality, and no one was trying to get them to conform. They were clearly owning themselves.

“Well?” Kuroo asked, sounding smug. He was probably sitting there with his arms crossed and that infuriating lazy grin on his face, but Kenma didn’t bother to turn around to confirm that. There were more important things to focus on, like the colorful strings threading themselves together in his mind that seemed to come alive the longer he looked at the dancers.

Kenma dropped his pencil to the blank page and started messily scribbling the images in his head until there were four rough outlines of four gorgeous omegas staring back at him. The cogs in his imaginative brain were moving quickly, faster than they had since he first received this project three months ago. It made him breathless. Maybe, just _maybe_ , he would thank Kuroo later.

“Well,” Kenma murmured as he looked back up at the muses on the stage. “I’m still pissed off at you, but I suppose you have your moments.”

Kuroo’s laughter trickled into Kenma’s ears as he looked back down at the open notebook and took in the rough sketches. A project focusing on the omegan identity- what was The Omega? There was the mature omega, the fierce omega, the confident omega, and the demure omega. But something was missing.

He looked back up as the threads in his mind started to unravel. How could he have missed it? Something, or some _one_ , was missing from the picture. But who was it? Who was missing?

The crowd was growing louder. Shady Businessman was standing up and clapping, Yakuza Boss was nodding in, what looked like, approval, but Kenma’s shoulders were slumping as frustration burned within his chest. He had it. For a moment, he had had that inspiration by the balls and was ready to create the best project his professor had ever seen, but it was gone because it was incomplete.

Still, the incomplete idea was too good to trash completely. Besides he had something he didn’t have an hour ago, and that was a start. His golden eyes traveled back to the dancers on stage, devouring their grinding figures and sweaty skins. No, he wasn’t going to let it slip away from him that quickly.

It was here Kenma made the decision he would have to keep coming back to The Nest in order to find that missing link, the final piece that would make his idea the best of the best. He just hoped he found it before the deadline of his final.


	2. One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 47 kudos in a few days? You people are amazing, thank you!
> 
> [Suga's lullaby](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RSQDzkrMqQQ)

_Deep breath in, deep breath out; deep breath in, deep breath out. Keep breathing, keep breathing, it’s all you can do to keep from screaming, from erupting, from shattering your already fragile lungs. Your lungs will crack, break, like glass and slice through your chest and expose the secrets you keep hidden across your tainted heart. There you are with diamond lungs piercing through your chest, spreading you open with pearls dripping in place of your blood and exposing your purple alexandrite heart._

_“Pretty little thing,” the voice of your nightmares cooes in your ears. “My pretty little thing, you know why I have to hurt you, but you know I love you.”_

_Hands wrap around your waist, holding you close to the iron maiden at your back ready to splinter your body further until it becomes unrecognizable. You can feel it pressing against the backs of your legs and thighs, your backside and angel bones. They are not diamonds, they are something much sharper and deadlier, further they go, and letting the pearls cascade from the open wounds. You can’t move._

_Naked, bleeding, vulnerable, a pathetic omega, an even more pathetic man. You try to breathe, but your chest is open and your lungs are exposed. You try to wrench from the iron chamber, but his grip is too strong. Sapphires leak from your eyes, little gems that twinkle as they fall down your cheeks just like the diamonds in your chest. The pearls dripping from your wounds are turning into rubies, and they explode in a million tiny pieces as they hit the ground._

_Glistening, shimmering, twinkling gem. You are his pretty little thing. His pretty little thing, nothing more than his pretty little thing-_

_Your skin is turning into rose quartz and it sparkles under the eerie glow. The hands around your waist tighten and you can feel it, the spider web of a crack forming beneath his hands and it’s spreading, how powerful must one be to break a gem?_

_“But even pretty things need to be taught lessons,” the voice of your nightmares hisses. The grip tightens, the cracks grow, and the rubies and sapphires fall faster._

_Drowning, choking, breaking gem. You are his ugly little thing. His ugly little thing, nothing more than his ugly little thing and that is all you will ever be. The rose quartz skin cracks, showing the black abyss beneath your once beautiful skin. You can no longer keep breathing, it is impossible to do so. All you can do is wait for the cracking to stop, for the pain to subside, and for the oblivion to take you for good. Oh, but it hurts._

_The spreading, the cracking, the webs, crack crack crackcrackcrack you are nothing more than his ugly little thing. The glimmering jewels a king may wear to show off his wealth and power; you are not at his side as an equal, you are his decoration. And no one really remembers those._

_The hands tighten and the rose quartz crumbles._

Sugawara tore the covers from his body in a desperate attempt to remove the iron hands from his sides while his own hands gripped the mattress below him, blunt nails digging into the cotton gray sheet that was clinging to his sweat drenched pajamas. Shakily, his hands withdrew from the sheets and unbuttoned the first few buttons of his pajama top in order for him to touch his chest.

He expected the smooth, glossy surface of rose quartz and the rugged edges of diamonds, but there was nothing but slick skin obscured by the occasional blemish. Beneath his trembling fingers was a heart pounding wildly against his, thankfully, closed chest. In his head, he saw a heart carved from alexandrite pulsing from a beat with diamond lungs caging it in. There were always gems, and they always shone so beautifully all in order to hide the horrendous flaws beneath.

Suga drew his hand away from his chest and pressed the palms of them into his eyes, rubbing them until bright spots started floating past his eyes. ‘ _It was just a dream_ ’, his tired brain tried telling him. ‘ _Just a horrible dream about a horrible man. You aren’t with him anymore, you’re in your own room. You’re okay._ ’

Deep breaths, that’s what he had been ordered to do after nightmares like the one he had just awoken from. Breathe in like you’re smelling the flowers then breathe out like you’re extinguishing a candle’s flame. He kept his palms against his eyes in order to concentrate on one thing at a time, and then he allowed himself to begin.

At first, the image and sound of gems cracking filled his senses, drowning out the things he was supposed to concentrate on, but Suga didn’t stop breathing. He breathed deeply, holding it in and picturing the flowers he could’ve been sniffing before letting it go and picturing the dozen candles he had been tasked with blowing out. It was a tedious task, one that was much easier to complete with a friend (Noya was usually with him when he completed the breathing exercise), but he kept breathing and imagining.

It felt like an eternity, but his heart had finally stopped pounding, his mind was no longer occupied by gems, and his ears were no longer filled by the cooes and hisses of a ghost that could do nothing more than haunt him.

Slowly, Suga dropped his hands into his lap and blinked at the navy blue covers pooled against his waist. Nightmares were the worst. He ran a hand through his ashen gray hair, grimacing when he was met with resistance by the tangles and knots. That’s what he got for going to bed before brushing out wet, conditioned hair.

He took a final deep breath before opening his eyes and taking in the dark surroundings making up his small bedroom, though his gaze eventually bypassed everything in order to look at the clock resting on top of the dresser across the way, out of arms reach so he had to get out of bed to turn off the alarm during mornings. The neon red numbers read 4:00 AM, an entire two hours before he usually got up. He should close his eyes and try to fall back asleep, but he knew it wouldn’t be able to.

The ghost was still whispering against his ears.

“Mommy?”

Suga literally jumped. His body left the bed from the force of his sudden movement, one hand leaping to his heart and the other gripping the dark covers still at his waist while his head swiveled to the side where the bedroom door was open. The sudden fear swirling inside of him dissipated upon seeing who was there.

“What is it, Hiroyuki?” His voice was filled with sleepy soreness, but he didn’t bother clearing it as he pushed the covers aside and swung his legs out of bed to better face his pup. “Did you have a nightmare?”

Little Hiroyuki nodded pathetically. His ashen hair, a shade darker than Suga’s, was in complete disarray and his orange pajama set was crumbled. There was a gleam in his bright hazel eyes and a downward curve to his lips. Gripped against his chest was his old stuffed panda bear he insisted on naming Pan-Chan. Yep, this was definitely a nightmare night- or nightmare morning.

“Mmhm.” Hiroyuki ducked his head in what was probably an attempt to hide his tears. Immediately, Suga opened his arms in an invitation and Hiroyuki darted forward, quickly climbing onto the bed and nestling himself in his mother’s lap with Pan-Chan crushed between them. Suga sighed softly as he lowered his head and pressed his nose to Hiroyuki’s scent gland, allowing the soft smell of freshly baked cookies and vanilla to soothe his own frayed nerves while Hiroyuki’s little nose nuzzled against Suga’s own neck.

“I had a nightmare too,” Suga whispered as he lifted his head, followed by Hiroyuki. His heart cracked at the sight of Hiroyuki’s tear-filled eyes, and the amount of fear etched inside of them. Suga was thankful he had been able to calm himself down earlier so Hiroyuki wouldn’t be able to detect any stress from the scent meant to relax him. “And I don’t really want to stay in my bed either.”

“Where are we going to sleep?” Hiroyuki whispered back. “In Yuu-chan’s bed?”

Suga chuckled softly and pressed a chaste kiss to Hiroyuki’s damp forehead. “No, not in Yuu-chan’s bed. There’s no telling what we might find in his messy room.” Hiroyuki giggled softly. “No, let’s go to the couch, okay? I’ll even open the curtains so we can watch the sunrise!”

Hiroyuki’s smile stitched Suga’s heart back up, and he watched as the gap of his two front teeth were exposed by the force of the grin. “Okay!” Of course, Hiroyuki would probably crash as soon as they found a comfortable spot on the couch, but his excitement still made Suga smile.

“One, two…” Suga stood up with Hiroyuki in his arms. Hiroyuki’s dark hair tickled Suga’s cheek when his head dipped back down and pressed against the scent gland on his neck, and Suga tucked him closer. It had been a while since he held Hiroyuki like this- the boy was seven, after all- and while he was a bit heavy, they still fit perfectly against each other.

After taking a quick pit stop at the linen closet in the hall for a blanket, he and Hiroyuki were sitting on the couch in the dark living room with the blanket curled around their shoulders and Pan-Chan sharing their thighs. It was an old toy, one Hiroyuki used to always drag around, but it had since been reserved as a nightly cuddle time partner instead, along with the additional title of nightmare fighter.

Suga wrapped an arm around Hiroyuki’s small frame and pulled him closer, allowing the boy to rest his head on Suga’s shoulder. “Do you want to talk about your nightmare?”

When Hiroyuki didn’t immediately respond, Suga’s stomach churned. If it had been a nightmare about a monster in the closet or a clown chasing him, he wouldn’t hesitate. The nightmare probably had to do with something far worse then. It had one full year since That Night, and Suga foolishly hoped the nightmares and spikes in anxiety would die down in Hiroyuki with every day that took them away from That Night, but sometimes things like this happened. Hell, tonight was a prime example that neither one of them was over That Night or… or _That Life_.

Hiroyuki’s voice was shaky as he murmured, “You were screaming, Mommy, and I couldn’t find you.” He lifted a hand and tightly gripped Suga’s oversized white shirt. “I couldn’t find anyone and I just- just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Ah, so it had been a nightmare about That Night. Suga sighed softly and tightened his grip around Hiroyuki. “I _am_ okay, Yuki. See?” Hiroyuki didn’t look up. Instead Suga lowered his head in order to kiss his temple. “You don’t need to worry about my safety anymore, not when I have you and Yuu-chan to protect me.” He let out a breathless chuckle to calm Hiroyuki’s nerves, and it must have worked because bright hazel eyes were blinking up at him. “And we all know what Yuu-chan would do if he thought I was in any kind of danger, right?”

“He’d beat them with a baseball bat?”

“He’d beat them with a baseball bat.”

He and Hiroyuki shared a smile, but there was still a hint of unease in Hiroyuki’s scent that soured the smell of cookies. Once he hit puberty, his scent would diverge from Suga’s own sweet scent and morph into his unique alpha scent, but until that day arrived Suga would continue to make sure Hiroyuki always smelled like cookies and vanilla, that the souring smell of fear hardly ever intermingled with them.

This time he leant down and pressed his forehead against Hiroyuki’s, and offered him a bright smile. “Want me to sing you a song?”

Hiroyuki’s grip tightened as he gasped. The smell of cookies and vanilla flooded Suga’s senses and found a home in his heart where they healed every crack he had endured alone in his bed with the shadow. “Yes! I love your songs, Mommy!”

Suga’s smile softened. He tucked a strand of dark gray hair behind Hiroyuki’s ear as he lowered his head again and rubbed the tip of his nose against his son’s. “Just close your eyes and listen, okay?”

Hiroyuki made an affirmative sound before slamming the side of his head against Suga’s lap and fisting a hand in the baggy black sweats beneath his head. He nestled Pan-Chan to his chest and chirped, “Ready!”

Always so rough. Suga lifted a hand and ran it through Hiroyuki’s soft hair, pausing momentarily to scratch his scalp as he thought of which song to sing. It didn’t take him very long to pick a good one.

The song fell softly from Suga’s lips. He made sure to keep his voice light and filled with love, an effortless act as he stared at Hiroyuki’s curled form beneath the blanket. His dark gray hair slipped between Suga’s fingers, and were occasionally twisted around them. The movement caused the smell of the shampoo he had used during his earlier bath to waft through the air, and it reminded Suga of years ago when Hiroyuki was younger and needed to Suga to bathe him. Giggles and bubbles filled the air as Hiroyuki played with his toys and splashed around happily before plastering suds across Suga’s face when it was time to be washed.

Suga didn’t like remembering the time before they moved in with Nishinoya, but there were some memories he cherished from then and they all revolved around Hiroyuki, his little fortune. The thoughts evaporated as he heard Hiroyuki’s breathing even out as the song started drawing to a close.

He hummed the remaining chords as his fingers continued their journey through Hiroyuki’s soft hair. He could see the side of Hiroyuki’s face, his parted lips and closed eyes, and he could feel the rise and fall of his chest. He was asleep. Suga hoped his remaining moments of sleep were filled with beautiful dreams, that his scent and lullaby chased away the lasting remnants of the nightmare, but if they hadn’t he would be there when Hiroyuki woke up, ready to fight it off again.

He leant down and nuzzled Hioryuki’s cheek. “Sleep well, Yuki.”

Hiroyuki’s lips quirked into a faint smile.

* * *

By the time the clock read 7:00 AM, Suga was showered, Hiroyuki was fed a good breakfast, and Noya was curled up in his own little room, his snores echoing through the apartment. He was loud even in his sleep, but Suga had since grown used to his best friend’s snores and they never failed to make Hiroyuki giggle. Because Noya hadn’t stumbled home until five (he worked as a waiter in some club in the red light district that had horrendous hours), Suga had wrapped his breakfast up and put it in the fridge for later.

Since it was a Friday, Suga and Hiroyuki walked to their separate destinations together until they made it to the train station where Suga took the Chuo-line bound for Shinjuku and Hiroyuki continued on to one of Tokyo’s many elementary schools. They had parted with a quick kiss and then Suga was hurrying away to the train platform.

Now he sat behind a glass window in one of Shinjuku’s banks, finishing up with an early morning customer who had asked to withdraw a particularly large sum of yen from their account. The transaction finished, and Suga slid the envelope filled with the paper money underneath the glass window into the waiting customer’s hand.

“Thank you for waiting,” he said with a smile. “We look forward to seeing you again!”

The customer gave a small bow before turning around and walking to the door.

Suga ran a hand through his hair, no longer tangled like earlier, and huffed a small sigh as he began tapping away on the computer in front of him. Working as a bank teller was never something he saw himself doing, but it put bread on the table and he thought it to be quite the rewarding job. There was a relative peace in the lobby of the bank where he and his coworkers did their work, and it was vastly different from the other small jobs he had ever since his parents disowned him at the age of eighteen. In the broadest sense, it was the best job Suga ever had.

He liked putting on nice clothes (grandfather clothes, as Noya liked to put it) and catching the train, he liked feeling smart and needed as customers asked him what they should do about their credit or checking history, and he liked proving himself worthy to his boss, no matter how often said boss pissed him off. He didn’t get the title of assistant manager by not being a good worker after all!

The door to the lobby opened and Suga glanced up in case it was a customer, but it wasn’t. It was a man in a tailored suit that looked to be an inch or so taller than Suga with dark hair and bangs swept to the side, and when his eyes slid over to the counter, they appeared to be slanted. He reminded Suga of a snake. The man tilted his head in acknowledgement, but continued right on past without any word of where he was going.

“Um, sir?” Suga tried, but the man didn’t turn his head again. “You can’t just-”

“Let him be, Sugawara-san.” Suga turned to the alpha standing at a computer a few paces away from him. Tsukishima didn’t look up from whatever he was typing, meaning he couldn’t see the ugly glare Suga was sending his way but he could probably feel it. He turned his attention back to the snake-like man getting into the elevator that would take him to the floors above them, filled with “more important” bankers, including the alpha in charge of the bank teller branch.

“We’re going to allow random people to go upstairs now?” He made sure his voice was loud enough for the snake-man to hear it before the elevator doors slid shut.

Tsukishima sighed in that ‘I’m surrounded by idiots’ way as his fingers flew over the keyboard. “That guy isn’t some random person, he’s probably going to be joining us soon enough.”

Suga paused. “He’s going to be a bank teller? I didn’t think there were any new openings.”

“I think Yamato-san knows his dad, making him one of those rich lucky boys.” Of course Tsukishima would know. Whenever he took a smoke break, their branch boss Yamato was in the breakroom or outside and apparently wouldn’t let Tsukishima leave until he finished talking about something or another. Tsukishima always grumbled how he didn’t even consider it a break anymore. “I hope he gets the job in marketing.”

Suga chuckled and turned back to his own computer, letting his previously aggravated nerves die down. “Oh, don’t be like that. We’ll be able to take a load off if he gets hired.”

“I think Yamato-san just wants another alpha working for him,” Tsukishima muttered right as the lobby door opened again. Once again, it wasn’t a customer. It was the company’s third morning bank teller, Yamaguchi; he and Tsukishima went to one of the local universities and only worked during the mornings while Suga worked the entire day. Watching the young omega hustle forward with a smile on his face and balancing three cups of coffee in his hands caused a bridge to form in Suga’s mind, and he suddenly knew why Tsukishima sounded so bitter.

“Good morning!” Yamaguchi chirped as he slipped behind the counter and settled in the spot between the other two. “I felt guilty about coming in two hours later then you two so I bought us all coffee!”

Blessed Yamaguchi. Suga would adopt him if he didn’t already have his hands full with a child and a Nishinoya Yuu. “Yamaguchi, you’re too sweet!”

Yamaguchi’s freckled face reddened as it did every time someone gave him even the smallest of compliments. “Ah- no, not really, Sugawara-san. You’ve gotten me coffee way more often. Oh, here, I made sure to get sweet hazelnut for you.”

Suga eagerly wrapped his hands around the warm cup and inhaled the addicting scent wafting from the slit on the lid. This was exactly what he needed after waking up at four in the morning! “Thanks so much, Yamaguchi!”

Now to watch his possible theory unfold. He turned back to his computer and pretended to type something up, but his eyes were on Yamaguchi and Tsukishima. “Here, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi was saying as he handed Tsukishima his own cup. “I asked for extra whip cream since I know you like it so much.” The tips of his ears were red and a sweet smell was permeating the room- ah, those were Yamaguchi’s pheromones.

Tsukishima took the mug with, dear god, identical red marks on his pale cheeks. “Thanks,” he mumbled. Their fingers must have brushed against each other while they were both holding the mug because Yamaguchi stumbled back and Tsukishima cleared his throat and faced his computer again. Young love was too cute. But that must be why Tsukishima was irritated about another alpha working with them, because Yamaguchi was an unmated, single omega.

Maybe the new guy would force Tsukishima to grow some balls.

For about thirty minutes, the three worked quietly and took care of various clients that wandered inside, performing tasks that weren’t too stressful, only tedious. As one client was departing, the elevator doors opened revealing the snake-man and Yamato, laughing together like they were old friends. Suga tried not to openly stare, but he was naturally curious. Unfortunately.

“Ah, I look forward to you starting tomorrow, Daishou-san!” Yamato exclaimed, slapping Daishou on the back with a hearty chuckle. “We’re all deeply honored to have you join the team!”

Suga watched Daishou walk through the lobby and out the door, back onto Shinjuku’s busy streets. When the doors clicked shut, Yamato turned on his heel, his taut face stretched into a too wide grin that exposed pearly white teeth. “It looks like the three of you are going to have a new coworker!”

“He’s working the morning shift?” Suga asked as Tsukishima mumbled, “That was quick.”

“Daishou is working the full shift!” Yamato corrected, waggling his finger. “He even has a financial degree, and I told him about the other positions that’re hiring people _with_ those credentials but he said he wants to start here. A humble alpha, a _good_ alpha, wouldn’t you say?”

Suga nodded with an, “Oh, yes,” falling from his lips because he knew Tsukishima wasn’t going to agree and Yamaguchi would only do so quietly. Yamato seemed pleased with the reactions anyway, and started back toward the elevator. “Very good. Keep up the excellent work, Tsukishima-san!”

A muscle in Suga’s hand twitched from the blatant bias on Yamato’s tongue, and the familiar irritation that came when speaking to Yamato burned in his veins. He and Yamaguchi shared a look, him with lips twisted in a wry grin and Yamaguchi smiling knowingly. Praise the laziest worker, not the other two harder working ones, not the assistant manager of the branch!

When Yamato disappeared inside the elevator, Yamaguchi tentatively said, “I don’t think someone new will be bad. We could always use an extra hand.”

Tsukishima snorted. “Snakes don’t have hands.”

Suga laughed loudlenough for the spacious lobby to echo with the noise. “Okay, okay,” he said as the last octaves of laughter passed through his lips, “let’s not be cruel, and you better not say anything like that to his face, Tsukishima.”

“As long as he keeps himself in line.”

“How about this?” Suga looked back to his computer, the screen black from lack of use. He gave the mouse a little twitch and Excel popped back up, the cursor blinking in the last cell he had been working in. “You be nice to him unless he steals one of our jobs. If that happens, I give you full permission to talk behind his back!”

Suga was quite proud of himself when he caught sight of the grin on Tsukishima’s face. “Deal, Sugawara-san.”

* * *

Someone was listening to English rock songs when Suga finally made it home after five-thirty that evening, but he knew exactly who that someone was because the music was coming from beyond his apartment door and there was a voice accompanying the screeching vocalists’. The key twisted in his hold and the door swung open, causing the loud music to almost deafen him.

Noya’s new obsession: English rock. The one who received a below average grade in high school English was now in love with the language despite not being able to speak a lick of it aside from “how are you?” and “do I make you horny, baby?”

“ _Tadaima_.” The music drowned out his voice, so he slammed the door shut in order to be heard. He cringed from the volume of the loud, gibberish-sounding music as he slipped his shoes off and placed them between Hiroyuki’s and Noya’s before he headed down the little hallway that led to the living room and kitchenette. Sitting on the counter was Noya’s outdated stereo he picked up from behind a building where garbage went and since it hadn’t been garbage, Noya, at least, claimed, he took it and tinkered with it until it worked.

Noya himself was standing by the rice cooker in a pair of black basketball shorts and a mustard yellow hoodie that swallowed his entire frame. It was Noya’s favorite piece of clothing- Suga knew this because he’d had it since they were first years in high school. Dark brown eyes fell on him, and he gasped. At least, Suga assumed he gasped but it was impossible to _hear anything_.

“Suga!” Noya shouted. He dove for the stereo and turned the knob, immediately quieting the ridiculous volume it had previously been on. “What’s shaking, mama?”

“The walls,” he replied breezily with his eyes on the stereo. “And I told you to stop calling me that.”

“No way! It’s hilarious, and you know it is.” Noya grinned. “Besides, I’m just calling what you are.”

His little shit of a best friend cackled delightfully as Suga reached over in an attempt to poke him in his very ticklish side, but Noya easily ducked out of the way. “If you put it like that, then I have full leeway to discipline you for disobedience!”

“Hella kinky.”

Suga bit his lip to keep from dissolving into a fit of laughter. He was sure he looked ridiculous trying to scowl with lips that kept curling upward. “It won’t be when there’s a footprint on your ass-”

“ _Now_ you’re speaking my language-”

There was absolutely nothing to say to that, so Suga just elbowed Noya in the ribs. The smaller omega let out a large ‘oof’ and doubled over, holding his side precariously. “I hope you’ve learned your lesson.” He brushed his hands off and glanced at the rice cooker that looked just about done. They were having Poke bowls for dinner, and Noya had promised to get started on it before Suga came home.

“Learn to control some of that strength,” Noya whimpered as he straightened. “You’re worse than an alpha, I swear.”

Suga smiled as sweetly as he could. “I do hope that wasn’t a compliment.”

“Yeah, cause I’m definitely the one to use the standard of alphas to compliment omegas. Yep, definitely sounds like me.” There was a feral grin stretched across Noya’s face, the same one he had been wearing when Suga first met him in high school after he had barged into an older alpha who had Suga cornered in an attempt to flirt. It was wild and beautiful, and it was one of the many things Suga loved about Noya. “Sushi is all rolled up in the fridge, by the way. Only thing we need to do is cut the veggies and finish with the rice.”

“Mm, you mean the sushi you bought at the convenience store?” Suga asked as he turned around, smirking as Noya started squawking in protest. “Oh, come on, Noya. Since when do you make sushi by hand?” He didn’t give Noya a chance to flounder with a lie. “I’m going to go check on Hiroyurki. Is he in my room?”

“Nope, he chose my room today!”

The apartment wasn’t meant for three people, it was technically meant for two, but even that was a bit much. Originally, the apartment was Nishinoya’s until one year ago when he insisted Suga and Hiroyuki move in with him since they had nowhere else to go, never mind any money to spend on an apartment. Suga took the guest bedroom, even though Noya was going to give up the main bedroom for his sake, and together they cleaned out the large storage closet at the end of the hall for Hiroyuki. It was small, but spacious enough and Hiroyuki said he loved it because it felt like he was in a permanent hiding spot.

“Maybe he could sleep with me?” Suga had wondered the day he and Hiroyuki moved in. Noya, and their mutual friends Tanaka and Kiyoko, sat in the living room with him, discussing what was going to happen next. “I can lay a futon out.”

“But what is he going to do during your heats?” Noya had asked. “Run in and sleep with me? Or sleep on the couch for an entire week?”

“Not to mention,” Tanaka added gently. Everything he had done around Suga had been gentle then because of That Night, “he’s a growing alpha boy. It’d be best if he didn’t have his mother around at all times anymore.”

So they gave the closet a little makeover. Besides, Suga and Hiroyuki weren’t going to be with Noya forever. It was only temporary. But because of the small space, Hiroyuki played with his toys either in the living room or Suga’s and Noya’s rooms.

Suga walked down the hall, shedding his brown jacket as he went, and called out, “Yuki! I’m home!”

Silence, apart from the quiet music drifting from the stereo in the kitchen, meaning Noya turned it back on again. That was strange. Hiroyuki usually left whatever game he was playing in order to say hello to Suga, especially after a school day! They talked about their day together on the couch with cups of juice between them- sometimes Noya joined them, choosing to sprawl out on the floor like a dog.

Suspicion bloomed in his chest like a lotus flower. His nightmare came flooding back, along with the great sense of urgency that had accompanied it. Hiroyuki hadn’t been in the dream per say, but that- that voice... that familiar, eerie voice was connected to Hiroyuki whether Suga liked it or not. Nightmares always made him more protective than usual.

“Yuki?” he tried again once he made it to Noya’s half-opened door. “Are you in here?”

“Hi, Mommy!” Suga loosed a breath, letting his silly fears creep away. What? Did he actually think someone snuck in and stole his son? Noya would’ve bitten their head off before they even make it to Hiroyuki. He pushed the door open, and blinked past the soft lighting of the bedside lamp. Hiroyuki was kneeling on the ground, half hidden inside Noya’s closet. “I didn’t hear you!”

“That was probably thanks to the loud music.” Suga walked further inside, letting the vanilla scent from Hiroyuki and the cinnamon smell clinging to everything else in the bedroom, Noya’s smell, relax him further. “Does Yuu-chan know you’re in his closet?”

“One of the pieces of the gundam I’m building rolled inside!” Hiroyuki explained, and since his little nose wasn’t twitching, Suga knew he wasn’t lying. “But then I found this!”

Now Suga always thought he was a pretty relaxed parent. Of course, he was a bit overprotective and still felt uncomfortable with Hiroyuki walking to and from elementary school alone, but when he repeated curse words said by his mother or Noya, Suga cackled and then explained he should never say that word at school. But those were curse words, it was hilarious hearing them from a pup. However, he thought the unholy screech that came from him was completely justified when Hiroyuki, his seven year-old son, held up the most provocative, shiniest orange romper he had ever seen.

Suga snatched the thing from Hiroyuki, whose hazel eyes were round as he beheld his flabbergasted mother. “What- where-” He tried taking a deep breath, failed miserably, and let everything out in one gasping exclamation, “ _Where did you get this_?”

“F-from Yuu-chan’s closet,” came the meek reply. “There’s a whole box full of weird outfits and I thought they were Halloween costumes.”

Suga’s mouth was dry as he stared at the rubbery romper in his grip before his gaze crawled to the open box at Hiroyuki’s side, still tucked away in the closet where- oh, dear god- a pair of fishnets was dangling from the side. “Yes,” he croaked out, “they’re all Halloween costumes. Now, um, can you take your gundam into my room? I need to talk to Yuu-chan about dinner.”

Hiroyuki’s eyebrows were drawn together and his lips were pursed, but he didn’t protest. He hugged Suga, then disappeared from the bedroom, allowing Suga to process what it was he was looking at because he had no fucking clue. He dropped to his knees, the romper still gripped in his hand, and pulled the box out from the closet.

“Oh my god,” he whispered. “Oh, my god.”

The box was, in fact, full of outfits but they weren’t Halloween costumes unless the holiday had suddenly been changed to fit an X-rated movie. There were tiny shorts, crop tops, leggings, garter belts, panties, devil horns, a devil tail (Suga knew _exactly_ where that was supposed to go), and other things that didn’t seem like the Nishinoya Yuu he knew at all. Noya never scoffed at sensual outfits like the ones in the box before, but he never acted like he wanted to buy them for himself either.

Noya wore baggy jeans and leather jackets, he wore combat boots and shiny belts, he drove motorcycles and drank liquor with alphas, he fixed cars with Tanaka as a second job and fiddled with broken radios in his free time. The items inside the box didn’t fit that description at all! At least, not to Suga, who had known him since they were trouble making fifteen year-olds who stole cigarettes from convenience stores and made fun of pretty omegas who flirted with alphas and hung off their arms like dolls.

Oh, god. _Was_ there an alpha who wanted Noya to wear lingerie like this, Suga wondered, momentarily horrified because he didn’t know about them if that were true and- Suga paused when his fingers brushed against something that wasn’t fabric. After shoving more clothes away, he was able to lift whatever the something was out of the box. His eyes widened at what it was. “No fucking way.”

It was a photograph. There were five people in the photo, including Noya himself. There were two tall men at the back of the group, both dressed in white lingerie sets. The one to the left had wispy brown hair and was sticking his tongue out at the camera with his hip jutted out to the side. The man to the right had inky black hair, and was smiling very softly at the camera, his beautiful eyes reflecting the smile on his face.

In the middle was a much smaller man with glasses and a wide smile on his face, thin lips parted in a way that told Suga he was about to laugh. He was dressed in a dark green cardigan with a dark gray shirt beneath it. The last two people in the photo were bending their knees to keep from obscuring the view of the man in the middle. Suga sucked in a deep breath because the one on the left was Noya.

He was dressed in a lingerie set similar to the others, but it was black instead of white. His hair was spiked as usual, and he was grinning in that feral way of his. Across from him was a very young looking man with a shock of orange hair, dressed identically to Noya. He was throwing a peace sign to the camera and was gripping the nearest sleeve of the green cardigan with his free hand. They were all strikingly beautiful, especially the two in the back. They didn’t seem to be wearing any sort of make-up either, it was just a natural sort of beauty. But- it wasn’t just the beauty of the men, it was the happiness, the way their eyes dazzled, and the easy poses they were in. It was clear they were all very close with one another. It was almost endearing.

But it didn’t take away from the- the _poles_ in the background. The poles on a stage. The stage with poles on it. Noya said he worked in the red light district as a waiter of some club that he never said the name of. He never talked about his job, and never made a big deal about the massive amount of tips he always seemed to somehow accumulate even though it was a very non- Noya like thing to do because Noya loved talking about everything. Suga had been a waiter before, and he knew how hard it was to make good tips like that, but he never pushed his curiosity because in the end, money was money. It didn’t matter how they got it.

Now Noya’s quiet behavior made sense.

“My best friend is a stripper,” Suga breathed. “My best friend is a fucking stripper.” How the hell was he supposed to react to that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so no one thinks Suga is a horrible mother: Japanese children are expected to walk themselves to school at a very, very young age. To Westerners (or at least Americans), this is definitely a culture shock but 'tis the Japanese way of doing things, mainly because Japanese children are expected to have a good sense of independence, and there aren't any school buses in Japan.
> 
> Be prepared for the next chapter where Noya spills the beans about his job and Daichi is introduced :D
> 
> Stalk my tumblr:[cutie-satori](https://cutie-satori.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> Stalk my tumblr: [cutie-satori](https://cutie-satori.tumblr.com/)


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